Another Path
by Hedgehog of Time
Summary: Germania after a failed battle with Rome at sea finds him washed up on the shore's of a strange land, tended to by the beautiful and mysterious Native America. After one night of passion he warns her to beware the children of his own land as he leaves to battle Rome. Armed with his words and his love Native America rallies her family, and prepares for war.


Chapter 1: Beauty Beyond Measure

"You die this day Rome!" cried Germania drawing his longsword, a daring grin on his handsome face. The wind was blowing hard out at sea this day and the sea was wild, but Germania stood as firm as his very own mast upon the deck of his boat. Germania's long blonde hair blew around in the wind, but he wore a smirk. His long green cloak flapped in the fierce wind and his shinning white breastplate, greaces, and bracers gleamed, freshly polished and ready to fight his ancient foe, Rome: The Avaricious. "Today I will avenge my brother, the noble Gaul!" he cried. "Carthage, whom you betrayed will look down at your demise and laugh with joy!" Germania knew what kind of man and country Rome was. He was greed incarnate, he would never have enough until the entire world fell at his feet. Even now Greece and Egypt were his pleasure slaves, Armenia licked his feet, Carthage whom had been his ally had been stabbed in the back for his land, and worst of all, his brother Gaul had been unmercifully murdered by this snake!

"Oh you mean that barbarian that attacked me like the beast he was?" smirked the black haired man in the boat opposite him. His bronze armor and red cape seemed almost, hungry, for blood. His long lance and great rectangular shield had been sharpened and polished, ready for battle. "Well if you ask me, the animal had it coming. And his wife Iberia, well she is a most... entertaining plaything." he said with an ugly smirk.

"You will pay in blood for that demon!" cried Germania with a snarl. "My wife and I shall be free! And when our children are born, then by the Gods they will be born free men!" he lifted his sword high above his head and unleashed a savage war cry as the heavens loosed their rain. Lightning flashed behind him, outlining his form.

"Your wife will be my slave as well, and as for your sons, well" he gave another smirk, "even the spawn of barbarians can learn to be civilized, with the right encouragement."

"Damn you!" roared Germania. He shoved his sword into the woodwork of the ship and ripped his bow from his back and aimed it at his bronze clad foe. He loosed the arrow and it flew straight at Rome. Rome hefted his shield and caught the arrow.

"A good shot, but I'm too fast for you German- LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!" cried Rome pointing with his spear, a look of terror in his eyes.

"Seriously?" asked Germania raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You expect me to fall for that childish trick? Surely you jest?"

"Germania! I am serious! Take cover!" cried Rome dropping his spear and shield, hitting, quite litterally, the deck of his ship.

Germania turned and gaped as he saw the mother of all waves about to coming crashing down on his head. "OH SCHNITZEL!" he screamed as the wave struck.

* * *

Germania groaned and blinked open his sky blue eyes. Beneath him he felt cold, wet sand and above him he could here the call of gulls singing for a meal. He felt cold slimy seaweed wrapped around his left ankle and was wet everywhere. His body felt like it had been trampled by a herd of Roman Elephant cavalry and hen dipped in saltwater, which was actually close to the truth. He felt himself slipping into oblivion once more. He fought with all his might to stay awake, to stay conscious, but the urge to fall into nothingness was too strong. But as he slipped into the void, he thought he could hear the sound of footsteps in the sand. Coming towards him, and the scent of crushed pine needles.

* * *

When Germania came to, he found himself in a very different place. He was on his back staring up at the sky. High above him the stars twinkled and shone, almost mocking him. There was something odd about them, something that just seemed weird. His brain must have been damaged from his adventure, because it took him a full minute to realize that he was gazing at an entirely new set of stars. The constellations he saw were rimmed by the black outlines of pine trees, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of crushed pine needles. On his side he felt the warmth of a fire heating him up. With a groan he managed to sit up. The knitted blanket that had been covering him slid off and he got a look at his clothes. His green tunic appeared to have survived the majority of the damage, but his leggings were shredded from the storm. His cloak was nowhere in sight, and he felt salt in his hair.

"Where am I?" he wondered aloud. That's when a woman emerged from the trees gracefully as though she were a spirit. She was without a doubt the most stunning woman he had ever seen. She had skin tan both naturally and from days in the sun easilly mistaken for red, long, silky, raven black hair that hung to her waist, chocolate brown eyes that possessed a matronly glow in their dark depths. She wore tanned buckskin leather tunic and leggings that hugged her slender frame and seemed to pronounce her curves. A blue headband was fitted around the crown of her head, a single black eagle feather stuck in it. Stuck in her belt was a small bone knife, so sharp it looked like it could slice a hair if you merely dropped it on the edge. Strapped around her leg was a pouch made of some sort of leather that he could not identify. Across her back was a beatifully crafted bow and full quiver of arrows fletched with goose feathers. She was both matronly and terrifying at the same time, not unlike Germania's own wife, Brittania.

The woman came up to him and kneeled down beside him, giving him a kind smile. She gently pushed him back into a laying down position again and ran a hand across his forehead. He looked up at her, not sure of what to think. She opened the pouch on her leg and took out a handful of dried plants. She reached over and grabbed a wooden bowl next to the fire that was filled with water. She crumbled the plants into the water. She ran her hand under his head and lifted it a little bit off the ground and held the bowl to his lips. Taking the hint he eagerly drank down the liquid, still too out of it to suspect some sort of trap like poison. The stuff was very bitter, but had a very sweet aftertaste.

Immediately he began to feel drowsy and it became a battle to merely keep his eyes open. He began yo panic, but the woman put her hand on his chest to calm him. Eventually he faded out of reality, and the last thing he saw was the face of the mysterious woman.

* * *

The woman sighed as the handsome blonde man fell asleep allowing the herbs to work their properties on him. Now she must heal his soul. She went to the fire and picked up two objects, her shamanic staff of power, and her bowl of red facepaint.

The staff was a beautiful thing, made from the limb of the tallest pine tree in her lands when it had been struck off a tree by lightning. The woman was no fool, she knew that the lightning had imbued it with power, she had felt it the moment she had touched the wood. Carved into the wood were symbols, animals, people, runes of the ancestors. She had bored a hole straight through the top, running a leather string through it and with it had attached the feathers of the birds, shells, and the claws of the beasts, all of which held power all their own. The staff was her tool, her link to the ancestors. With it she could wield the power of the living Earth.

She dipped two fingers into the paint and made lines under her eyes. She set down the paints and sat on her knees by the fire. She raised her staff and began to chant.

She chanted old words.

As she shook the staff the wind began to blow through the forest, causing the flames to twist and dance. Her eyes began to glow with white light, and the carvings of her staff began to move along the wood as though they possessed a life of their own. Her voice changed, becoming deep, powerful, the voice of the ancestors. As though in a trance she dropped a handful of herbs into the flames, causing an explosion of scarlet and green flames. The smoke from the fire began to twist and writhe, turining into a living embodiment of the blonde man's spirit. The shape of wings appeared, sharp firece talons and a hungry beak formed from the smoke. The man's soul was that of a mighty falcon, proud, strong, and free. The smoke falcon emitted a screech of fury and flew hundreds of feet into the air with a single beat of it's mighty wings leaving a trail of smoke behind. It dove back to the ground with lightning speed, circling around the native woman once, slowly as though she were a lover, and then dove towards the blonde man, turning into a single tendril of smoke.

It dove into his mouth, and the man's back arched as new life poured into him. His chest began to glow with golden light over his heart. Finally the last of the smoke poured into him and he fell back to the ground. The light faded from his chest and the flames returned to their normal crackling state. The symbols on the staff ceased to move, and the spiritual light faded from her eyes. She smiled as she knew that her spell had done it's work.

She stood and walked back into the forest, to the tree where she had stashed her kill, a great elk. After all, her guest would be hungry when he next woke. She spared a single glance behind her. She couldn't help but feel attracted to the pale skinned man, but she shook such thoughts out of her head. She had work to do.


End file.
